(i will never) get used to you
by hedakomhearteyes
Summary: Clarke Griffin is used to a lot of things in life, but she thinks she will never get used to Lexa and her hands on her naked body, exploring every dip and curve like she is being carved from a piece of marble. - Or, the one in which it's Wednesday and Clarke and Lexa cleared their schedules so they can have sex pretty much everywhere in their house.


**A/N:** This one is for everyone who commented on Of Irritation and Sexual Frustration, thank you for your kind words.  
Sequel to Of Irritation and Sexual Frustration. You don't have to have read it to understand this, but I promise you it's a lot better, so you want to read it!

* * *

There are some things in life you can get used to over time. Like waking up ridiculously early in the morning every single damn day or the burn of whiskey as it travels down your throat or even the pain of not having someone in your life anymore. Clarke is used to all these things and many more, but one thing she thinks she'll never get used to is Lexa.

Lexa and the way she looks at Clarke sometimes. The way she walks and talks and how she always drums her fingers to the beat of the music whenever it's playing.

(Clarke can vividly remember that time almost a year ago when she had put up some music to accompany her evening plans with Lexa and she still feels those fingers tap the beat against her head as she licked her way down Lexa's body.)

She thinks she will never get used to seeing Lexa again after a long day apart, probably because she will never understand how even after five years her heart still skips a beat when she sees the brunette. She will never get used to searching for Lexa's eyes in a crowd and find them already on her or how she can spend silent hours looking at Clarke's sketches and paintings as if she's seeing them for the first time.

And she thinks she will most definitely never get used to Lexa's hands on her naked body, exploring every dip and curve like she is being carved from a piece of marble. Clarke is the artist, but Lexa makes her feel like a masterpiece.

' _We like to take our time and go slow._ ' Lexa's words echo through her mind as she feels soft hands trace her sides, fingers tickling a little as they travel over the expanse of her skin. And they do, both of them know that they can spend hours just exploring each other, touching and kissing and giggling. Simply happy and content to be in each other's company, wrapped in the other's embrace. On that day it was a damn shame that they do – hell, that entire week it was a damn shame that they do.

But not today. Today it's a blessing. Today it's everything she wants and needs. Today they have their phones turned off and the door double locked and their schedules cleared until tomorrow. Today it's just Clarke and Lexa.

Clarke is draped over the couch, naked but for the red, lace panties she's still wearing. She hadn't really planned on wearing expensive lingerie this morning, knowing all her clothes would be ripped from her body at some point, but Lexa had insisted she wear it. Something in Lexa's darkening eyes as she said that she loved the color against Clarke's pale skin made her comply.

A soft and content hum escapes past her lips every now and then as she has her hands entwined above her head, leaning on the armrest of the couch. Lexa is between her legs, nearly as naked as Clarke, moving her way down Clarke's body with soft hands and even softer kisses.

Lexa reaches a scar a little below her bellybutton and kisses it before looking up at Clarke, her thumb now tracing the mark.

"Tell me about this scar again."

"Appendix surgery."

"No, tell me the story, Clarke." She opens her eyes, looks down at Lexa who is looking up at her with a slightly tilted head and pursed lips.

"You know the story already."

"Still."

Clarke sighs with an affectionate smile. "When I was six I had to get my appendix removed. Even though mom's a doctor, I was scared to death for the surgery. I couldn't eat or sleep the day before the surgery and then when I was laying there on that bed, ready to be wheeled into the operating room, unable to stop crying, my dad took my hand. He squeezed it, looked me straight in the eye and said that I was a brave warrior who could conquer anything." She removes her hands from behind her head and lowers them to her stomach, the right one tracing the scar along with Lexa's finger. "It's my battle scar." She smiles.

"You are a brave warrior, Clarke." Lexa's grinning up at her and Clarke can't help but laugh.

"Shut up and kiss me."

"As you wish." Lexa resumes her ministrations and Clarke gently tangles her hands in brown curls.

(Clarke comes twice on that couch. The first time with just Lexa's tongue. The second time with Lexa's leg between hers and two fingers buried deep within her, her own fingers buried inside Lexa.)

Around an hour and a half later, Lexa is sitting on the kitchen counter, wearing just her bra and a pair of basketball shorts, picking seeds from the pomegranate in her hand, watching Clarke thumb through a cookbook besides her. She smiles to herself as she is reminded of the last time she saw Clarke like this, the blonde is even wearing the same black dress.

"Are you wearing that dress on purpose?"

"Maybe." She doesn't look up, just pretends to read the book. "Does it remind you of something?"

"Maybe." They both grin, even without seeing the other do it.

Lexa hops off the counter, goes to throw the remains of her finished fruit into the trashcan and then moves over to the sink to wash her hands before walking up behind Clarke and pressing herself against the body before her. She's placing kisses behind Clarke's ear when the blonde straightens and Lexa follows. She doesn't waste time in moving her hands to Clarke's legs, pushing the dress up. Lexa allows her left hand to travel further up, finding a hard nipple as the right cups Clarke's center.

(Lexa does as she promised and fucks her against the counter. And indeed, afterwards, when they finish the simple dinner Clarke managed to make, she cleans up and pulls Clarke from her seat. Her hands undo the zipper at the back of her dress and she throws it somewhere across the room and Clarke on the table.)

Despite their tendency to take things slow, they can also get very lost in their desire for each other and Clarke realizes mid moan that their encounter in the gallery the previous Wednesday has considerably changed the way Lexa seems to get lost in her. If the three fingers moving inside her right now are any indication.

"I don't think this much sex," a moan interrupts her as Lexa hits _that_ spot, "is very good for the human body."

"Are you complaining?" Lexa speeds up her motions when she feels Clarke clench around her fingers and renders the blonde unable to speak. Clarke is panting through her moans, gripping the edges of the table and her hips strain to meet Lexa's thrusts as she works her towards her orgasm. Lexa's thumb moves to rub small circles over Clarke's clit while her fingers thrust hard and deep within her. Lexa knows the body beneath her, knows when to push in and pull out and she does so in a way that drives Clarke positively crazy.

She comes with a long, deep moan and Lexa slowly eases her through it before she pulls her fingers from Clarke and moves to rest her head on Clarke's sweaty abdomen, while her hands hold the blonde's sides. When she has completely recovered, Clarke brings her hands up to brush through Lexa's curls as they both try to regain their breath.

"Nope, no complaints here." She can feel Lexa's chuckle through her entire body. After a moment, Lexa looks up and Clarke looks down and they smile at each other before Lexa moves to stand again, holding her hand out for Clarke to take. She pulls the blonde up in a sitting position when their hands connect and then just as quickly lets go to rest her hands against Clarke's bare hips, while she wraps her arms around Lexa's neck. They lean in, both closing their eyes and they freeze when their lips are just a breath apart, another smile on both their mouths.

Lexa closes the gap, placing a short, gentle kiss on Clarke's lips before she pulls back and brushes their noses as she shifts her head to the other side. The second kiss is longer but just as gentle and their lips move against each other with a familiar ease. Lexa pulls back again to rest their foreheads together, eyes remaining closed and they stand in complete silence and utter bliss. But then Lexa opens her mouth and Clarke can hear her take a breath before she will speak, so she seizes the opportunity to press their lips together again in open-mouthed kiss that Clarke immediately deepens as she brushes Lexa's tongue with her own.

They kiss for a while before Lexa pulls away again and Clarke actually groans, but Lexa just smiles as she removes herself from Clarke and holds out her hand again. Clarke opens her eyes and looks at it questioningly.

"Come." Is all Lexa says as she tilts her head in the direction of their bedroom, eyebrows rising up in the way they do when she speaks. Clarke takes her hand and jumps from the table, wrapping herself around Lexa again once she's standing. The brunette lets her kiss her as she moves them to the bedroom. They're stumbling a little with their eyes closed and legs bumping together as Lexa tries to walk Clarke backwards, but Clarke is smiling against her lips and Lexa wouldn't have it any other way.

However, she misjudges where the door opening should be and Clarke hits the wall with a soft grunt. Lexa immediately pulls back with a look of concern, but Clarke is laughing.

"You did promise you would take me against the wall."

"I said I couldn't promise I wouldn't."

Suddenly, Clarke spins them around, pushing Lexa against the wall almost forcefully and the brunette gasps in surprise, but her eyes quickly darken with arousal. "I can promise you I will."

And before Lexa can even respond, Clarke is already dropping to her knees and pulling Lexa's shorts and underwear with her. But she doesn't complain, can't even find a reason to, when Clarke's tongue swipes through her drenched folds. They moan at the same time and Clarke decides then and there to work her up slowly.

(It has the desired effect, because when Lexa finally comes after torturously long, delicious minutes she nearly screams Clarke's name and Clarke is about to begin all over again when she is pulled up by her hair and Lexa kisses her deeply.)

They move to the shower then where they spend the first few minutes kissing, naked bodies tangled together as the hot water pours down around them.

"I'm thinking we should make Wednesday a rule." Clarke muses.

"Naked Wednesday?" Lexa provides and Clarke laughs heartily.

"I very much like the sound of that."

"I very much think it could be discussed."

"Don't pretend you're not very much enjoying Naked Wednesday."

Lexa laughs before she kisses Clarke and as she pulls back she moves her hands down Clarke's back until they reach the curve of her ass and she pulls the blonde flush against her, moving her head to whisper in her ear. "Very much."

(As promised, Clarke gets ravaged and she's grateful Lexa's body is holding her up against the wall, because she's not quite sure her legs can still support her weight. But when she recovers and trusts her legs to function properly again, Lexa gets equally ravaged.)

Afterwards, Clarke is in bed waiting for Lexa to turn off all the lights. It takes her less than five minutes, but when she walks back into their bedroom, completely naked and grinning at the sight of Clarke, the blonde feels like she hasn't seen her in hours.

She holds up the covers so Lexa can slip in bed with her and wordlessly, the brunette crawls on top of her. They move around a little until they find a position that is comfortable for the both of them – one of Lexa's legs between hers and one of her own between Lexa's; chest to chest, hip to hip, toe to toe. It's impossible to tell where one begins and the other ends.

Lexa has her head tucked underneath Clarke's chin, fingers of her right hand playing with the fingers of Clarke's left while she can feel the other one playing with her hair.

"Thank you." Clarke's voice is soft, almost vulnerable.

"For what?"

"For today."

Lexa chuckles. "You're welcome."

Clarke playfully swats at her back. "I don't mean it like that. I mean thank you for being here today, with me." Lexa looks up now, eyes locking with Clarke's and she untangles their fingers to brush Clarke's cheek. A small smile playing at both their lips.

"I know I'm always busy, I know I'm gone a lot, but I am always going to come back home to you."

Clarke is used to a lot of things in life, like how the seasons change and daily life with it or how people come and go. But she thinks she will never get used to the way Lexa kisses her so tenderly; as if she is afraid she will break if she pushes too hard. And Clarke can't help her body's reaction to Lexa, can't stop her hips from moving up and seeking to connect with Lexa's body even if they can't possibly get closer. And Lexa always responds.

They move together in a rhythm that they perfected long ago, lips sucking and nipping, hips meeting in perfectly timed thrusts. The love they hold for one another pouring out in every possible way as they draw gasps and moans and soft cries of pleasure from each other, rising up and crashing down together.

Clarke is used to a lot of things in life, but she hopes she will never get used to Lexa.


End file.
